Adventures in Vertigo

Friday, January 4, 2019

What’s more important than Fu Manchu’s omnipresence, though, is hiseffect. Rohmer was writing while completely ignorant about Chinese people and culture, for an audience equally ignorant, and played on xenophobic fears to create his villain. He depicted the tiny Chinese section of London’s Limehouse district as a nest of vice when those two blocks were in fact some of the most law-abiding in the city during the World War I and interwar periods. Anti-Chinese and anti-Asian sentiment had been prevalent in the West since the late 19th century (see, for example, the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882, which prohibited the immigration of Chinese laborers to the U.S., and the earlier Page Act of 1875, which prohibited “undesirable” immigrants but in practice mostly barred entry to Chinese women in order to prevent Chinese population growth), but Rohmer’s creation shamelessly stoked the fires of those fears, portraying the East as sinister, unknowable, and ever-encroaching.

Sunday, December 16, 2018

We went to [the Jefferson Davis Home and Presidential Library], the nation’s grandest Confederate shrine, and to similar sites across the Old South, in the midst of the great debate raging in America over public monuments to the Confederate past. That controversy has erupted angrily, sometimes violently, in Virginia, North Carolina, Louisiana and Texas. The acrimony is unlikely to end soon. While authorities in a number of cities — Baltimore, Memphis, New Orleans, among others — have responded by removing Confederate monuments, roughly 700 remain across the South.

To address this explosive issue in a new way, we spent months investigating the history and financing of Confederate monuments and sites. Our findings directly contradict the most common justifications for continuing to preserve and sustain these memorials.

First, far from simply being markers of historic events and people, as proponents argue, these memorials were created and funded by Jim Crow governments to pay homage to a slave-owning society and to serve as blunt assertions of dominance over African-Americans.

Second, contrary to the claim that today’s objections to the monuments are merely the product of contemporary political correctness, they were actively opposed at the time, often by African-Americans, as instruments of white power.

Finally, Confederate monuments aren’t just heirlooms, the artifacts of a bygone era. Instead, American taxpayers are still heavily investing in these tributes today. We have found that, over the past ten years, taxpayers have directed at least $40 million to Confederate monuments — statues, homes, parks, museums, libraries and cemeteries — and to Confederate heritage organizations.

Monday, October 15, 2018

A couple of days ago, I was directed to an on-line article. It was an introduction of sorts by Professor Katherine West Scheil, letting readers know about her new book Imagining Shakespeare’s Wife: The Afterlife of Anne Hathaway. The professor’s article made her book sound thought-provoking. But what really caught my eye were the postings on the article’s comments section below. As is often the case with articles having to do with William Shakespeare, some anti-Stratfordians — the umbrella term for those who believe Shakespeare didn’t write the works attributed to him — chimed in, casting their doubts on the authorship of his plays and poems. In this case, the commentators championed Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford (1550-1604), as the “true” author of Shakespeare’s works — or as such contrarian thinkers are known, Oxfordians.

This time, however, the Oxfordians were rebutted in the comments section by knowledgeable historians who pushed back against the historical revisionism. The traditionalists — also known as “Stratfordians” — maintained that William Shakespeare of Stratford-upon-Avon was the author of the plays and poems, as common knowledge holds, and they offered references to historical documentation to make their case. The Oxfordians countered with unproven assertions and unsupported hypotheses.

Given the breadth of historical knowledge displayed by the Shakespeare scholars, I thought that their exchanges were too valuable to be relegated to the comments section of a modest on-line article. So, I thought that I would reproduce the discussion on my immodest blog. I have lightly edited and reformatted the words — in a way not to distort what was said, I hope — and because the comments section broke off into threads, I have needed to rearrange some of the paragraphs to preserve the clarity of what was written. Also for clarity, I have divided the discussion into sections, and I have rendered the speakers’ names (or soubriquets) in bold type. Quotes from other commentators in the discussion appear in italics. Most spelling and punctuation has been left intact. Because the Oxfordians and the Shakespeareans are well acquainted with each other, the comments sometimes devolve into throwing shade, but I think that the substance of what is presented overshadows such transient niggling.

The exchange starts off with Dr. Richard Waugaman, one of the better-known Oxfordians, riffing on Professor Scheils’s speculation on what Anne Hathaway, Shakespeare’s wife, might impart about her husband to us folks from her future. Scheils writes: “She could tell us how he got his start as a playwright, how he negotiated work and family, how he grieved for the death of his only son, how he died….” On the discussion board below the article, Waugaman picks up from there:

THE EVIDENCE FOR WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

Richard M. Waugaman, M.D.

Yes, indeed. Not only could [Anne Hathaway] tell us “how [Shakespeare] got his start as a playwright,” but IF he was a playwright; if he knew how to read and write; if he did indeed attend the local grammar school; what happened to all the letters he wrote, if he wrote any; or, possibly, what role he had in serving as front man for the actual author of Shake-speare's works.

More at—

headlight (replying to Richard M. Waugaman, M.D.)

Anne
Shakespeare and her family left powerful evidence that Shakespeare was a
writer. The memorial the family erected to Shakespeare in the church
where he was buried depicts Shakespeare writing, quill in hand. The
style of the memorial — a bust from the waist up, set in an alcove, with
pillars on either side, a cushion before the figure holding a book
being read or a sheet of paper being written on — was a style used for
memorials for a few years in the early seventeenth century for
professors and clerics known for their erudition. The memorial included a
Latin inscription that translates as “A Pylian in judgement, a Socrates
in genius, a Maro in art.”

Doubters have invented an elaborate
fiction about the memorial — some even claim that the present memorial
replaced one that looked very similar, but that had carved monkey heads
on the pillars for the purpose of ridiculing the dead. One imagines
Shakespeare's grieving widow, daughters and sons-in-law, sitting in the
pews, looking up at the memorial installed by some unknown conspirators
for the purpose of mocking the dead William Shakespeare.

But the
reality is straightforward — memorials were typically purchased by the
deceased’s family, particularly ones in the person’s hometown church.
Though some contemporaries urged Shakespeare to be buried in Westminster
Abbey, his family chose to have him interred in the church a few blocks
from the spacious home, New Place, that Shakespeare’s success in the
theater had given them.

Shakespeare was concerned with his social
standing. As a player, he was technically at the lowest rung of the
social ladder, just about the same as a vagabond. Yet he got in on the
ground floor as a partner in an early playing company with its own
purpose-built theater, a virtual goldmine that provided a substantial
income for a commoner. He purchased a coat of arms for his father, which
was emblazoned on his memorial. His company was selected as the King’s Men, which elevated him to a position in the royal household as a Groom
of the Chamber. So a large, elaborate memorial in a prominent location
in the church is entirely consistent with those social ambitions.
Shakespeare made his name and fortune in London, but he was deep down a
man from Stratford, whose family and home were there.

Richard M. Waugaman, M.D.

Shakspere [sic]
came from Stratford-upon-Avon, and is the biggest source of revenue the
town has ever had, thanks to the flawed but lucrative assumption that
he wrote the works of Shakespeare, which were actually written by
someone who could read and write. Call me an elitist if you must, but I
believe the works of Shakespeare could only have been written by someone
skilled in reading and writing. Not the basic level of literacy and
numeracy that allowed Shakspere to be such a business success. Shakspere
couldn’t read and write beyond a basic level, as far as we know. Unless
you're content with circular thinking, and assume this, that, and the
other.

headlight (replying to Richard M. Waugaman, M.D.)

Shakspere
couldn't read and write beyond a basic level, as far as we know. Unless
you're content with circular thinking, and assume this, that, and the
other.

Dr. Waugaman’s not making sense. Indeed, he’s the one
arguing in circles. He argues that Shakespeare’s works could only have
been written by someone who could read and write; and he makes the claim
that Shakespeare was not able to read and write — “as far as we know.”
Waugaman’s whole argument boils down to that one point: he really
doesn’t know for certain that Shakespeare was literate, so he assumes he
was not. He’s uncertain because the school records from the Stratford Grammar School have not survived, and he dismisses plenty of other
evidence.

The First Folio was compiled by two players who had
been Shakespeare's partners and fellows for decades, John Heminge and
Henry Condell. They attribute the plays compiled in the Folio to William
Shakespeare; the book includes a portrait of Shakespeare that is
similar to the bust of Shakespeare on his memorial.

So how does
Waugaman come to the conclusion that Shakespeare had only a basic level
of literacy? He's making it up. If you follow Waugaman’s logic, nobody from Shakespeare's time went to grammar school dating back that far.

We
know that there was a grammar school in Stratford; we know that
Shakespeare lived a few blocks from it, and that he had free tuition
there; that Shakespeare’s father was a socially ambitious member of the
local government; and that other Stratford boys of around Shakespeare's
age were highly literate. Richard Field, one of Shakespeare's neighbors
in Stratford, went on to London as Shakespeare did, and became a master
printer; he printed Shakespeare’s first book, the narrative poem Venus and Adonis. All of this is good evidence to support the conclusion that
Shakespeare most likely also attended the grammar school.

The
real question in Shakespeare studies is not whether Shakespeare wrote
the works, but how he came to have the knowledge and talent do do so.
Biographers have often delved into speculation on these questions and
unfortunately we may never know all the answers. But one thing is for
certain — the works were never the creation of an Earl who died in 1604,
years before some of Shakespeare's greatest works were written.

Richard M. Waugaman, M.D.

George Eliot wrote George Eliot!

headlight (replying to Richard M. Waugaman, M.D.) That’s
the level of argument the Shakespeare deniers can come up with: because
there are some people who used a pen-name, they imagine that
Shakespeare did. You’ll notice that Dr. Waugaman has not mentioned any
evidence to support his beliefs.

…

Your “it coulda been a
pen-name” argument makes no sense. You imagine that an earl used the
name of a commoner in order to write lampoons that “offended state
power”? Why wouldn't Shakespeare have been arrested? Why wouldn’t he
have pointed the finger at the earl for it? Writers like Ben Jonson,
Christopher Marlowe, and Thomas Kyd had all run afoul of the law — why
would Shakespeare have risked it? Why would the Earl pick a front man
who, you claim, wasn't even literate?

I'm sure you have some explanation because it sounds goofy — but beyond a theory, do you have any actual evidence?

Richard M. Waugaman, M.D.

George Orwell wrote George Orwell.

In
the McCarthy Red Scare era in the U.S., banned screenwriters wrote
under the names of friends who were not banned. That era shares some
characteristics of the Elizabethan age, when speech was not exactly
free, if it offended state power. As in lampooning Lord Burghley as
”Corambis” (later changed to “Polonius”).

headlight (replying to Richard M. Waugaman, M.D.)

Dr. Waugaman —

You’ve certainly shown that —

• writers sometimes use pseudonyms;• there are examples of writers having “fronts” or real people take credit for their work, creating allonyms.

You may have the misconception that some of us here do not understand that these are possible, but believe me, we understand.

The
question is whether William Shakespeare of Stratford was such an
allonym or front, and if so, for whom? There is no evidence that
supports the idea that the author of the works in the First Folio was
not named William Shakespeare. There is no evidence that supports the
claim that Heminge and Condell were mistaken or lying in attributing the
works to their “fellow” and colleague for nearly three decades. There
is no evidence that the Earl of Oxford wrote any theatrical works
besides “comedy and interlude,” or that any of the [theatrical] works attributed to
him were ever published with or without his name attached. There’s every
reason to believe, actually, that Oxford used ghostwriters including
Munday and Lyly, at least as collaborators in any works and probably as
the true authors of the works. In that sense, there may be an example of
works being falsely credited: Oxford may have taken credit for his
servants' works.

If you have any evidence to counter this, I’d be
interested in seeing it. I’m always asking your side for evidence and
never get any.

An engraving of William Shakespeare as the frontispiece of the First Folio

Benjamin Hackman

One of the
many documents that support Stratford as Shakespeare is a literary
miscellany by Francis Meres written in 1598 titled Palladis Tamia. The book contains a long section with 50 or so lists, often comparing classical writers to contemporary writers.

Oxford
is mentioned once, in a list of writers best for comedy. In fact,
Oxford appears first on the list, but only because the list is by rank
with nobility first, knights second, gentlemen third, and commoners
last. Shakespeare appears well down the list, having only recently been
granted a coat of arms and thus the status of a gentleman. So clearly
Meres knew that Oxford and Shakespeare were not the same person, much
less that Shakespeare was an allonym (not a pseudonym) for Oxford.

Furthermore, Shakespeare is listed 8 more times in Palladis Tamia, along with names of all the plays Shakespeare had written to date (less the 1st Henriad), as well as his two long poems, [Venus and Adonis] and [The Rape of Lucrece], and his “sugred Sonnets [circulated] among his private friends.”

Meanwhile, in 1598, the 2nd Quarto of Richard III was printed with William Shake-speare on the by line.

Also
in 1598, Richard Barnfield’s poem, “A Remembrance of Some English
Poets,” places Shakespeare with Spenser, Drayton, and Daniel.

So
1598 was a very good year for Stratford [i.e., Shakespeare], complete
with the new Coat of Arms. And to put a nice little bow on top, the
following year, the Parnassus plays mention Shakespeare and his
works numerous times, to include several references to the freshly
minted Mr. Shakespeare. And as in Palladis, we have another instance
where Oxford appears, albeit offstage, in the midst of a discussion of
Shakespeare's poetry, suggesting that the theater-going audience was
well aware that Oxford and Shakespeare were very different people.

It
all fits, and ties Mr. Shakespeare the playwright to Stratford — since
the College of Arms records only one Mr. Shakespeare, and awarded the
honorific based on Shakespeare’s father having served as bailiff of
Stratford-up-Avon. Yes, that one, the town where Shakespeare was born
and died and buried in a nice monumental tomb, which lauds him as
“Judicio Pylium” (a Pylian in judgement, comparing him to King Nestor of
Pylos), “Genio Socratem” (a Socrates in genius), and “Arte Maronem” (in
artistry a Maro, comparing him to the Roman epic poet Publius Vergilius
Maro, better known today as Virgil).

Such high praise fits the master storyteller and poet from Stratford who created the Shakespeare canon.

And no one else.

Richard M. Waugaman, M.D.

[Benjamin
Hackman] hasn’t watched the video, or he would know the person I'm
promoting is Edward de Vere, Earl of Oxford. He would also know that
Cambridge University Press sent me a book manuscript on Shakespeare,
asking me to serve as peer reviewer. And that I’m a regular reviewer of
books on Shakespeare for The Renaissance Quarterly. And that half of my
80 publications on Shakespeare are in mainstream literary and
psychoanalytic journals.

The rabid anti-Oxfordians have done
their damnedest to keep Oxfordians from being able to publish and
present in mainstream venues, so they can then turn around and claim “No
mainstream scholar doubts that Shakespeare wrote Shakespeare!”

It’s not surprising, coming from the crowd that is trapped in groupthink, unaware of the circularity of their “reasoning.”

headlight (replying to Richard M. Waugaman, M.D.)

It’s not surprising, coming from the crowd that is trapped in groupthink, unaware of the circularity of their “reasoning.”

He has no sense of irony at all, does he?

Benjamin Hackman (replying to Richard M. Waugaman, M.D.)

Indeed,
Dr. Waugaman has done some very good work when he is not advocating for
Lord Oxford. As he carefully points out, half of his publications are in
“mainstream literary and psychoanalytic journals.” True. But the other
half, not so much, which is why he wants us to believe that the former,
somehow, impart credibility to the latter.

headlight (replying to Richard M. Waugaman, M.D.)

Let's explore the question of “groupthink” a bit.

The
Oxfordians accuse people who do not agree with them — practically every
Shakespeare scholar in the world — of “groupthink.” And there is some
truth to that — they are a very large group, and they have thought a lot
about these issues, and have contributed some very good scholarship.
But since Waugaman is using the term as a pejorative, we have to look at
what he considers groupthink.

According to Wikipedia,

Groupthink
is a psychological phenomenon that occurs within a group of people in
which the desire for harmony or conformity in the group results in an
irrational or dysfunctional decision-making outcome. Group members try
to minimize conflict and reach a consensus decision without critical
evaluation of alternative viewpoints by actively suppressing dissenting
viewpoints, and by isolating themselves from outside influences.

Shakespeare
authorship is an historical question, that would best be interpreted
using the historical method. It’s possible that Oxfordians see using the
historical method of reasoning as a form of groupthink. This is like a
person who is a “chess doubter” arguing that the rest of the people who
play chess are engaged in groupthink when they restrict bishops to
moving on the diagonal. Sure, you can come up with a version of the game
where a bishop moves some other way — but it’s not chess.

So
like a chess game, let’s imagine the first move by an orthodox scholar,
and how the Oxfordians would respond. For me the first move is (as I
have done in this thread) to note that Shakespeare’s name was on the
title page of the First Folio, that the book included a portrait of him
that resembled the memorial in Shakespeare's home town, that it was
compiled by two men whose relationship with Shakespeare as partners in
the same acting troupe is well documented, and the introductory poems
include references to the place of his burial.

Oxfordians dismiss each of those facts.

•
Shakespeare’s name on the title page: the spelling is a little
different from his signatures; they think it’s a pseudonym for Oxford, so
it’s not surprising it would still be used nearly twenty years after
Oxford’s death.

• Portrait: Same argument — the Stratford man’s name and image are used as a cover for the Earl.

•
References to Stratford: again, same reasoning. A reference in Ben
Jonson’s memorial poem to “Avon” is supposedly ambiguous, referring to
Hampton Court, but there's no evidence that any of Shakespeare's works
were presented at Hampton Court, other than during the plague year of
1603.

• Heminge and Condell, Shakespeare’s fellows: Oxfordians
imagine Shakespeare’s partners as ignorant dupes for the wily Ben
Jonson, a master intriguer in their scheme. According to them, the two
were tricked into signing a letter attributing the works to Shakespeare;
it's never been clear to me whether they imagine that Heminge and
Condell just never knew who wrote the works they’d been performing for
the previous thirty years, or that they’d been fooled into believing
that the man Waugaman portrays as an illiterate yokel was the real
writer.

This is quite a combination of coincidences and
purposeful conspiracies — but there’s not a single contemporary source
that supports the theory that Shakespeare was a pseudonym or a front
man, nor that Jonson was anything but a friend and fellow writer whose
tribute to Shakespeare was heartfelt. Indeed, the evidence from Jonson’s
later writings — published after his death and long after Oxford and
Shakespeare had both died — is that he had a warm friendship with
Shakespeare.

Drawing of Elizabethan London with Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre center right

THE HISTORICAL BACKGROUND

headlight (replying to Richard M. Waugaman, M.D.)

There's really no rational doubt that William Shakespeare of Stratford-upon-Avon wrote the works attributed to him. For facts instead of speculation and nonsense, check out Shakespearedocumented.org.

Indeed. How could anyone ever have believed that “Will Shake-speare” was the real name of the poet? It's the perfect Elizabethan pseudonym — playing on the emblematic weapon of the Goddess Athena (guess who she was) making — in three syllables — a statement of intent. Each of those syllables has multiple bawdy meanings, allowing a vast number of puns to be made. No better name has ever been devised.

Those who failed to notice this were quite ignorant of the nature of Elizabethan literature. Presumably they also lacked a sense of humour or, at least, had one so alien that they had little or no grasp of the Bard’s works.

Of course, the authors of this device (the finding an illiterate peasant to stand in — in a strictly nominal manner — for ‘Great Oxford’) expected some of it. But they would have been astonished, and appalled, at the degree of their ‘success’.

Nat Whilk (replying to Paul Crowley)

Thank you for that perfect exemplar.

James Kabala (replying to Paul Crowley)

I think I would respect Oxfordians more if they claimed there was never any such person as William Shakespeare! Mr Crowley goes on at length with the claim that Shakespeare was a “perfect pseudonym” and that “no better name has been ever devised,” then admits that there actually was a real person of that name (and he was supposedly the frontman for Oxford). That is ridiculous.

Paul Crowley (replying to James Kabala)

I think I would respect Oxfordians more if they claimed there was never any such person as William Shakespeare!

There was an illiterate near-peasant in Stratford-upon-Avon with a name sounding like “William Shagsper”. The surname was not uncommon, and was spelt in hundreds of different ways.

To claim that Shakespeare was a “perfect pseudonym” and that “no better name has been ever devised”…

The pseudonym had to pass as being a real name. "Will Shake-speare" does.

…then admit that there actually was a real person of that name, is ridiculous.

You don't say why. The poet and his monarch wanted to publish his works, many written in the 1560s and 1570s, some as roman-a-clef of the royal court. They could not be seen for what they were. The ignorant masses would read in scandal. So they had to come out as pure fiction, written by a non-courtier. The solution was brilliant. Everyone got what they deserved — except the poet himself. But he had to accept it. “My name be buried where my body is…”. He expressed his irritation with portrayals of non-historical ‘Williams’ in the plays, and by naming and characterising “Black Will” and “Shakebag” in Arden of Faversham.

headlight (replying to Paul Crowley)

The poet and his monarch wanted to publish his works, many written in the 1560s and 1570s, some as roman-a-clef of the royal court. They could not be seen for what they were. The ignorant masses would read in scandal. So they had to come out as pure fiction, written by a non-courtier.

This reads as pure fiction.

Most works at the time were published anonymously. Inserting a false name would have been pointless. Making up a name that happened to be the same as a real person is far-fetched; that the real person happened to be a partner in the King’s Men's playing company, who received a testamentary gift from one of his partners and gave testamentary gifts to his partners who went on to compile the First Folio … you really aren't accounting for the evidence that exists and you have no evidence supporting your theory. James Kabala is completely correct. [Ellipses in the original.]

Paul Crowley (replying to headlight)

Most works at the time were published anonymously. Inserting a false name would have been pointless.

You’re missing the sheer quantity of De Vere’s work — the canon, much of the apocrypha, much of that now attributed to many others: e.g., Marlowe, Kyd, Lodge, Lyly, and many anonymous works. Presumably, it was felt that it was better to have one set safely ‘curated’ as by ‘a gentleman in the country’.

Making up a name that happened to be the same as a real person is far-fetched; that the real person happened to be a partner in the King's Men's playing company.

The Stratford man was never an actor (being illiterate), and his ‘shares’ in the King's Men were, almost certainly, fictional. There’s no mention of them in his will.

headlight (replying to Paul Crowley)

You’re missing the sheer quantity of De Vere’s work….

He wasn’t much of a writer — there’s no evidence he wrote anything beyond his few courtly poems. Most likely stopped before he turned 30. Writing poetry in your 20s is what he was expected to do — like his dancing, and his fancy clothes, all expected of a nobleman at court. That was his training — a couple hours of Latin, a couple hours of dancing, a couple hours of handwriting (he did have very good handwriting), a couple hours of fencing.

He had a promising career at court, but he blew it — he accused his wife, daughter of Elizabeth’s most important minister, Lord Burghley, of adultery, and then impregnated one of the Queen’s maids-in-waiting. His reputation with Elizabeth was ruined; he never recovered.

Presumably, it was felt… The closest you come to an argument is presuming away the evidence that disagrees with your assumptions.

…his ‘shares’ in the King’s Men were, almost certainly, fictional. There's no mention of them in his will.

Of course not. Only an active player could be a sharer in the company. When Shakespeare retired his share was either purchased by a new sharer, or the company split his share among the remaining fellows. The lawsuit Burbage et al. v. Brend provides good evidence that Shakespeare disposed of his other ties to the London theater in 1613, when the Globe burned down. He had coincidentally purchased the Blackfriars Gatehouse earlier that same year, with John Heminge, his partner in the King’s Men, as trustee. After Shakespeare's death, Heminge passed the property to a trustee in Stratford for the benefit of Shakespeare's daughter Susanna and her heirs.

Fun fact: there's more documentary evidence that Shakespeare was a sharer in the King’s Men than there is that Oxford wrote anything after 1581.

Paul Crowley (replying to headlight)

»…his ‘shares’ in the King’s Men were, almost certainly, fictional. There's no mention of them in his will.

Of course not. Only an active player could be a sharer in the company.

Where did that rule come from? Invented by Strats [i.e., Stratfordians]?

When Shakespeare retired…

A ‘retirement’ at 48, after starting his supposed literary, theatrical and acting ‘career’ in his late 20s, should arouse suspicion, quite apart from his ‘signatures’, his appalling will, the absence of any reference (by him or anyone else) to his supposed membership of the Royal Household under two monarchs, as well as the illiteracy of his parents, his wife and his daughters.

The lawsuit Burbage et al. v. Brend provides good evidence that Shakespeare disposed of his other ties to the London theater in 1613….

That lawsuit ran from 1632 to 1634 (at least). By that time the Stratfordian mythos was established and statements listing “William Shakespeare” among others, concerning events 30+ years earlier, have about as much evidential value as those by James Shapiro in 2010. That name (to whomever it might have referred) could not have been left out without the risk of unnecessary and irrelevant questions.

headlight (replying to Paul Crowley)»Of course not. Only an active player could be a sharer in the company.

Where did that rule come from? Invented by Strats?Actually, it’s in the statement of Robert Benefield, Heliard Swanston and Thomas Pollard, players in the King’s Men. In a complaint to the Lord Chamberlain that the housekeepers (owners of the theater building) were being unjustly enriched compared to the players, they describe the distribution of the receipts at the Globe:

That the housekeepers, being but 6 in number, viz., Mr Cuthbert Burbage, Mrs Condell, Mr Shank, Mr Taylor, Mr Lowin & Mr Robinson in the right of his wife, have amongst them the full moiety of all the galleries & boxes in both houses & of the tiring-house door at the Globe;

That the actors have the other moiety with the outer doors, but in regard the actors are half as many more, viz., nine in number, their shares fall shorter & are a great deal less than the housekeepers’, and yet notwithstanding out of those lesser shares the said actors defray all charges of the house whatsoever, viz., wages to hired men & boys, music, lights etc. amounting to £900 or £1000 per annum or thereabouts, being £3 a day one day with another, besides the extraordinary charge which the said actors are wholly at for apparel & poets etc.;

In his reply, Cuthbert Burbage did not disagree that the housekeepers like himself (who in former years included Henry Condell, Richard Burbage, and William Shakespeare) received the moiety of the galleries and boxes as described. Cuthbert was not a player, and did not receive a share of the actors’ moiety, but Condell, Richard Burbage, and Shakespeare all received shares of both the housekeepers’ and the actors’ receipts. Cuthbert describes the history of the company and the construction of the original Globe:

We then bethought us of altering from thence, & at like expense built the Globe with more sums of money taken up at interest, which lay heavy on us many years, & to ourselves we joined those deserving men Shakespeare, Heminges, Condell, Phillips and others, partners in the profits of that they call the house, but making the leases for 21 years hath been the destruction of ourselves & others, for they dying at the expiration of 3 or 4 years of their lease, the subsequent years became dissolved to strangers, as by marrying with their widows, & the like by their children.

These “deserving men” were all players in the Lord Chamberlain’s men, later the King’s Men. They're recorded in court documents as players during their lifetimes in the rolls recording servants of James receiving quantities of red cloth prior to his formal coronation in 1604; Burbage later describes the company recovering the lease to the Blackfriars, “& placed men players, which were Heminges, Condell, Shakespeare etc.” This shows that Shakespeare was still active as a player in 1608, when the King’s Men regained the Blackfriars.

That lawsuit ran from 1632 to 1634 (at least). By that time the Stratfordian mythos was established and statements listing “William Shakespeare” among others, concerning events 30+ years earlier, have about as much evidential value as those by James Shapiro in 2010.

The evidence in the suit (like Cuthbert Burbage’s petition above) is a primary historical source. A significant aspect of Burbage v. Brend is that the decision quotes the original lease for the Globe Theater, listing Shakespeare first among five players holding the second moiety. Both parties cite the now lost lease, including that Shakespeare was the first named player.

So why wouldn’t Shakespeare’s will have included his theater interests, which were apparently the source of his significant wealth? Shakespeare’s purchase of the Blackfriars Gatehouse may have been merely an investment, but now appears to have been made in anticipation of his impending retirement; the destruction of the Globe a few months later (making his housekeeper share worthless) may have sealed the deal, prompting his return to his home and family in Stratford. If he was no longer a player on stage, he would no longer receive the “moiety with the outer doors.” So at that point, his only remaining interest would be as a housekeeper at the Blackfriars.

Though neither Cuthbert nor the other five housekeepers involved in the dispute with Benfield were players, I believe they were all located in London, where collecting their share of the daily receipts would have been fairly easy. Shakespeare was a couple days travel from London. He could collect rent on his Blackfriars property (quarterly? annually?), but daily receipts from a going concern was another matter. It would have been more convenient to get out of the theater business entirely, taking his share and investing it in Warwickshire. So the most likely answer is that he sold out his share in the Blackfriars to his fellow householders (then including Richard and Cuthbert Burbage, Henry Condell, and John Heminge etc.).

Benjamin Hackman (replying to Paul Crowley)

You’re missing the sheer quantity of De Vere's work — the canon, much of the apocrypha, much of that now attributed to many others: e.g., Marlowe, Kyd, Lodge, Lyly, and many anonymous works.

Paul, So you're not content with just Shakespeare, but want Marlowe, Kyd, etc., too for Oxford?

Paul Crowley (replying to Benjamin Hackman)

So you're not content with just Shakespeare, but want Marlowe, Kyd, etc., too for Oxford?

We all agree that there was ONE great literary genius. But Strats are obliged to believe that there were up to 40 others, most of whom wrote one genius-level work (and occasionally two or even more). Mustave [sic] been “something in the English air”.

A major difference between us is that I prefer parsimony.

A portrait believed to be of Christopher Marlowe (1564-1593)

headlight (replying to Paul Crowley)

No, we don’t all agree that there was one great genius. Marlowe was certainly a genius, as was Jonson. The Renaissance that had begun in the quattrocento in Italy, expressed in painting and architecture, came to England at the end of the sixteenth century expressed in literature and drama.

Marlovians [i.e., those who believe that Shakespeare’s plays were written by Christopher Marlowe] imagine there was one genius who wrote both Marlowe’s work and Shakespeare’s. The coincidence of Marlowe's well-documented death and Shakespeare’s earliest published works prompted their “faked death” theory. Even they acknowledge that the stylistic evidence distinguishes Shakespeare’s work from Marlowe’s, but they attribute it to evolution of his style rather than it being two different writers.

Early modern English theater is like other artistic movements — from the Italian renaissance, to the Impressionists, to rock and roll. Retrospectively there tend to be a few standout artists — Michaelangelo [sic], Leonardo, Van Gogh, Renoir, Monet, Elvis, the Beatles, the Who, the Clash — and there are many others who as you say wrote one genius-level work. As Don McLean said, when asked what his song “American Pie” meant — “It means I never have to work if I don't want to.”

These movements often are associated with the development of new tools or technology. The Italian Renaissance discovered the principles of perspective drawing that allowed greater realism; impressionism was in part due to the development of manufactured oil paints that did not have to be mixed by the artist, which made painting on location outdoors much easier. Rock and roll took advantage of new electric guitars and improved amplifiers.

And English theater in the late 1500s took advantage of the development of purpose-built theaters and greater artistic freedom under Protestant rule. What was in the English air was that Elizabeth turned from court entertainments put on by nobles as “interludes” — the kind of thing Oxford wrote, actually — to an entirely new kind of fictional drama based on characters and stories, performed by professional players, regulated by the Court and nominally under the control of nobles (like the Lord Chamberlain or the Admiral). Oxfordians fail to understand that their man was the end of an old way of doing things, and Shakespeare was part of the new wave.

Paul Crowley (replying to headlight)

No, we don't all agree that there was one great genius. Marlowe was certainly a genius as was Jonson.

Very few would put Jonson in the same league as Shakespeare. Marlowe was closer which — in association with other similarities — is why so many think that there was only one writer.The Renaissance that had begun in the quattrocento in Italy, expressed in painting and architecture, came to England at the end of the sixteenth century expressed in literature and drama.Essentially fantasy. Every (i.e., EVERY) Renaissance art was financed by the very rich — the aristocracy. Stratfordians believe that English literature and drama was financed from the pockets of the common people. Strats never articulate this part of their crazy theory. Few are even aware of it. But many know that the bulk of the population was illiterate, and most of those who could read were of Puritan inclinations.

Early modern English theater is like other artistic movements — from the Italian renaissance, to the Impressionists, to rock and roll. Retrospectively there tend to be a few standout artists — Michaelangelo, Leonardo, Van Gogh, Renoir, Monet, Elvis, the Beatles, the Who, the Clash — and there are many others who, as you say, wrote one genius-level work. As Don McLean said, when asked what his song “American Pie” meant — “It means I never have to work if I don't want to.”

And English theater in the late 1500s took advantage of the development of purpose-built theaters….Their main purpose was to provide a cover for the publication of the works of a great author who had flourished 20 or 30 years earlier — mostly in the royal court.

…greater artistic freedom under Protestant rule.

That must be a joke. Protestants hated the theatre and literature generally (other than religious works). They destroyed ancient buildings and statues, and white-washed walls.

What was in the English air was that Elizabeth turned from court entertainments put on by nobles as “interludes” — the kind of thing Oxford wrote, actually.

“Interludes” are still with us. They are the usual resort of weak writers, who have neither the talent, the training, the intellectual and artistic authority, nor the political freedom to tackle anything more serious. The notion that a near-peasant had the qualities and the license, or could have found audiences that could have taken such works, is the wildest fantasy.

…to an entirely new kind of fictional drama based on characters and stories, performed by professional players, regulated by the Court and nominally under the control of nobles (like the Lord Chamberlain or the Admiral).

At least you sense the centrality of Elizabeth. But you fail to see that the works that would entertain her (whether comedy, history or tragedy) could not possibly be written by an outsider to the courtier class, and certainly not by someone of the Stratman’s [i.e., man from Stratford = Shakespeare] stature. She’s not going to sit through a consideration of when it’s right to remove a ruler when it comes from a near-peasant. She's not going to endure a skit on her courtiers, as well as on herself, coming from someone she does not trust and know intimately. She’s not going to tolerate a comedic portrait of the named monarch of an allied country, in the middle of a war with Spain.

Oxfordians fail to understand that their man was the end of an old way of doing things, and Shakespeare was part of the new wave.

The ‘new wave’ was Shake-speare [as hyphenated here, claimed to be de Vere’s pen name], or was inspired by him; it died with him (in 1604). Mediocrity returned. It’s the norm. Shake-speare had risen far above it. A Strat cannot begin to grasp how or why.

headlight (replying to Paul Crowley)

Very few would put Jonson in the same league as Shakespeare. Marlowe was closer which — in association with other similarities — is why so many think that there was only one writer.

Jonson was a favorite of the Stuarts. Shakespeare was popular but he was not regarded as towering over his contemporaries at the time. You’re suffering from Bardolatry. There are (and were) plenty of people who didn't like Shakespeare as much as other playwrights. Shakespeare never went in for writing masques, for instance, though they were later fashionable entertainment exclusively for the elite of society. Personally I don’t find reading The Masque of Blackness to be any great shakes, but perhaps its original production, performed only once on Twelfth Night in the 1604/5 yuletide, was dazzling.

Every (i.e., EVERY) Renaissance art was financed by the very rich — the aristocracy.

That’s one of the greatest things about the rise of the public theater. Here was art fit for performance at court, that groundlings could see for a penny. It was an entirely new thing — mass entertainment.

The problem with art focused on the aristocracy is that there aren’t that many of them and they only have a limited amount of time and money to spend. Elizabeth spent most of every day of her life as Queen running the government, defending the country, and defending the faith. Plays were put on as part of the court’s yuletide entertainment; hardly ever any other time of the year.

James Burbage and Phillip Henslowe realized that a professional troupe of players performing on a purpose-built theater was a great way to make money. The admission was low enough for groundlings and those of higher classes could get better accommodations. By the time that the King’s Men opened the Blackfriars, an audience member could buy a seat on the stage.

»And English theater in the late 1500s took advantage of the development of purpose-built theaters….

Their main purpose was to provide a cover for the publication of the works of a great author who had flourished 20 or 30 years earlier — mostly in the royal court.

Purpose-built commercial theaters were to early modern London what the movies were in the early 20th century, what television was in the 1950s, or the internet is now. An entirely new experience that changed all the rules. A commoner who had a penny to spend could spend hours being entertained by the same performers who entertained the court. The public theaters performed many more works than could ever be performed at court. Companies changed the productions constantly.

Though Shakespeare was a member of the Lord Chamberlain’s Men company (and their in-house playwright), they were constantly adding new works. Playwrights wrote for the company, rather than writing plays and then trying to find a company to buy it. Shakespeare wrote parts tailor-made for his fellows in the company.

»…greater artistic freedom under Protestant rule.

That must be a joke. Protestants hated the theatre and literature generally (other than religious works).Elizabeth was a protestant ruler. Do you not think she allowed more freedom than her predecessor Queen Mary?

“Interludes” are still with us. They are the usual resort of weak writers, who have neither the talent, the training, the intellectual and artistic authority, nor the political freedom to tackle anything more serious.

Oxford was credited in The Arte of English Poesie for “Comedy and Enterlude” [sic]. That’s about the extent of the credit for his theatrical work. I agree: being credited for “enterlude” is not much of an endorsement.

Your explanation of what Elizabeth would tolerate and written by whom is circular: Since you assume she would only enjoy and allow works written by an Earl, you find her enjoying and allowing Shakespeare's works to be proof of your assumption.

I doubt that Elizabeth, and for that matter most of the audience in the public theaters, even knew who wrote most of the works they saw. They were watching [Richard] Burbage, who defined most of the great lead roles in Shakespeare; the parts were written for Burbage, taking into account his abilities and speaking style.

Your analysis is astoundingly shallow. I'm sure Elizabeth enjoyed theater and being entertained, but she would hardly have allowed the public performance of plays that were as subversive as you claim Shakespeare’s were — no matter who wrote them.

Shakespeare’s works were reviewed by the Master of Revels to eliminate exactly the kind of subversive or inappropriate content you claim they included.

Since you think that Oxford had a god-like command of theater and literature (which oddly does not appear in any extant work attributed to him) and wrote everything, your claim that he “was” the new wave is similarly circular. You think he wrote everything good during the age, proving that he wrote everything good during the age.

A contemporary sketch of the interior of the Swan Theatre, a rival of the Glob

e

Benjamin Hackman (replying to Paul Crowley)

A major difference between us is that I prefer parsimony.

Not parsimony, but mendacity. You disingenuously gather everything unto your great Lord Oxford because you cannot admit that a commoner could be Shakespeare, even though all the great works of English letters were turned out by commoners, largely because the nobility was not nearly as well educated as the grammar-school boys, instead devoting their time to fencing and dancing and learning to write no better that passable poetry, which to them was just a block to be checked on their courtly CV.

But I still suspect that what sticks most in your craw is that someone not nearly as well-educated as you (at least in your mistaken estimation), someone without all the advantages you’ve enjoyed, still managed to be one of the greatest men of English letters. In short, he did so much with so little, compared to what you've managed to eke out. So personal incredulity, jealousy, snobbery, and a nagging sense of self-loathing have led you to worship the dissolute Earl of Oxford, who made a complete botch of everything he touched, a self-suspicion you might even share with your master — which is yet another reason you love him so.

Why do uber-Oxfordians like yourself behave the way they do? Likely, you can’t reconcile a very personal cognitive dissonance that Stratford could have gone so far by the dim light of nature (apologies to Francis Beaumont). And when you compare your accomplishments to his, it’s not a pretty ledger.

But if you imagine de Vere as The Bard, the dissonance goes away (Freud's problem, too, so don't feel too badly about yourself; you’re in good company). Your de Vere is Prometheus, so of course he was The Bard, and everyone else of literary importance. And worshiping him must make you feel so much better about yourself, knowing that Oxford is “milord.”

Or as Samuel Schoenbaum so deftly puts it, "Such obsessions reflect the operation of the Family Romance fantasy" (Shakespeare's Lives, p. 443). Visions of Oxford as your great ancestor would help redeem your otherwise common life. How very Freudian of your kind, and what a deliciously ironic act of unwitting obeisance to one of Stratford's most vigorous doubters. Especially for Dr. Waugaman.

BTW, Paul, do you have any actual documentary evidence for Oxford yet? Or nothing but daft and evidence-free speculations?

Paul Crowley (replying to Benjamin Hackman)

You disingenuously gather everything unto your great Lord Oxford because you cannot admit that a commoner could be Shakespeare….

Have you ever met someone brought up by illiterate parents? Perhaps who also had an illiterate wife?

Have you ever met someone who brought up illiterate daughters?

Probably not. But I'm sure you have met people who left school at 13.

Do you see where this is going? In fact, the Stratman almost certainly did not go to school, since a high priority there was the acquisition of a clear, preferably elegant, signature. Every literate person between 1300 and 1850 had one. You can find thousands of such signatures on the web. I have yet to see one worse than the Stratman’s — and I've been asking Strats for an example for decades.

…even though all the great works of English letters were turned out by commoners, largely because the nobility…

An ‘argument’ that is both stupid and false. Strictly, “the nobility” consisted of roughly 60 peers, who were mostly very busy people, with estates to manage or the government to run. But even there, you are wrong. The Earl of Surrey (Oxford’s uncle) was an outstanding poet. Broadening the term out to ‘courtiers’ allows us to bring in Chaucer. The identities and backgrounds of most authors in England between 1400 and 1550 are obscure. Where it's known (as with Thomas Wyatt) it’s aristocratic. Wealth was essential for their education, for the necessary leisure time, as well as for the paper (imported from France) and for the candles. Their readers were necessarily the aristocracy. This pattern can be more clearly seen on the Continent, especially in France, where most poetry comes from the aristocracy.

…was not nearly as well educated as the grammar-school boys…

Truly idiotic. How many times do you have to be told? Grammar school ended at 13. Those who could afford it and were academically capable went on to Oxbridge.

…instead devoting their time to fencing and dancing and learning to write no better that passable poetry, which to them was just a block to be checked on their courtly CV.

English aristocrats and courtiers could read and appreciate poetry — something that did not apply to other classes. So much of their poetry is of a surprisingly high standard — see that of James I of Scotland or of Darnley, or of the courtiers of Mary [Queen of Scots]. Being an aristocrat at the time, anywhere in Europe, meant a life-long continuing education. That did not apply to other classes. Royal courts competed with each other in this, as well as in other respects. Courtiers and ambassadors were required to have a good knowledge of the classics, of history, of philosophy, of music, of languages, of poetry, of sculpture, painting, architecture, current literature, political affairs, and much much else. That did not apply to other classes. It could not apply to other classes. There weren’t any newspapers or magazines.

Benjamin Hackman (replying to Paul Crowley)

Paul,

Still no documentary evidence for Oxford?

Now you can cast all the aspersions you want on Stratford, but how do you explain away the extensive documentary evidence for him, which you continue to dodge in favor of mudslinging.

As for the mudslinging, we all know there are no records from the Stratford grammar school, but its existence is undeniable, and the norm then was for the town fathers to send their sons to grammar school. John Shakespeare, like so many of his class, wanted to move up in society, and he wanted his son to move up. And if John Shakespeare couldn’t write, he most certainly would have wanted his son to, as has always been the case, and perhaps even more so during this time in England.

So we have a good case that Will went to grammar school, as his splendid parody of the tribulations of a grammar-school lad in [The Merry Wives of Windsor, Act IV, Scene 1] clearly shows. No nobleman who had not done 8 hrs a day, 6 days a week, of rote Latin would appreciate the episode, much less have imagined writing it, nor have mockingly put himself, by name, in the scene.

What a laugh the audience must have had, as they recalled those hard days of their youth and laughed with, not at, the clever and self-assured playwright with whom they shared this common experience.

As for illiterate daughters, we don’t know about Judith, but we do have Susanna's firm signature, she married the town's doctor, and her epitaph gave tribute to her wit. So once again, we are left with little more than your baseless speculations, driven by your snobbish contempt for the man from Stratford, based on nothing more than your personal incredulity — and likely having indiscriminately read — and swallowed — too much Oxie piffle.

Finally, you do go on about “near-nobles,” a class that you extend to include true commoners who did produce some excellent work (but you are really grasping to claim Chaucer). All of which delightfully undercuts that great Oxfordian article of faith, the stigma of print [i.e., the idea that it was taboo for aristocrats to publish creative works]. Seems like you have nobles and “near nobles” everywhere, writing everything, all very publicly and prominently.

But that aside, do you have any documentary evidence yet for Oxford? And how do you plan to explain away the First Folio? Or is mudslinging all you got?

So far, you've only shown that you hate Stratford with all your heart and all your soul.

...

Do you have a single piece of documentary evidence to support your contention that Oxford was Shakespeare?

And just to be clear, a document that does not require a specious, subjective, idiosyncratic reading that relies on an a priori assumption that Oxford was Shakespeare and then tortures the text to make it fit.

One document, please. Just one.Paul Crowley (replying to Benjamin Hackman)

Do you have a single piece of documentary evidence to support your contention that Oxford was Shakespeare?

Do you have a single piece of documentary evidence to support your contention that the Stratford man was the author “Shake-speare”?

And just to be clear, a document that does not require a specious, subjective, idiosyncratic reading that relies on an a priori assumption that the Stratman was Shake-speare and then tortures the text to make it fit.

One document, please. Just one.

Shakespeare’s First Folio

Benjamin Hackman (replying to Paul Crowley)

Paul,

The First Folio authored by Mr. William Shakespeare does nicely.

First is the dedication from two of Shakespeare's fellows from the Lord Chamberlain’s Men and the King’s Men, Heminge and Condell.

Second is the memorial tribute from his friend Ben Johnson with its famous “swan of Avon,” the same Ben Jonson who sparred with Shakespeare during the Poet’s War, whose plays were acted by Shakespeare’s companies, and in which Shakespeare himself acted, as Jonson tells us in his Works.

And third, the other equally probative dedicatory poems, especially those by Leonard Digges, who lived with his mother and his less famous male parent, stepfather Thomas Russell, a neighbor of Shakespeare’s who is remembered with a legacy in Shakespeare’s will and is one of the Overseers. Digges’s dedicatory poem in the First Folio specifically calls out “thy Stratford Monument,” meaning the one on the church in Stratford dedicated to the poet therefrom. You can’t get any more specific than that.

So, Paul, what do you think of this documentary evidence? Can you explain it away without resorting to a specious, subjective, idiosyncratic reading of these dedications that relies on an a priori assumption that the Stratford [man] was a frontman?

After you attempt to explain the First Folio away, no doubt with much handwaving and bluster, we can then move onto other documentary evidence for Stratford. Perhaps Basse’s elegy. Or Meres. Or Parnassus. Or the Grant of Arms that specifically ties Will to Stratford, making him the only Mr. Shakes-scene in town c. 1598, which corresponds precisely to the first appearance of the honorific [i.e., “Master,” abbreviated as “Mr.”], which continued to be used right through the First Folio in 1623.

Unless, of course, you’d like to counter with some documentary evidence for Oxford.

headlight (replying to Paul Crowley)

I agree with Ben. The First Folio. He is named on the title page; it includes a portrait that resembles Shakespeare’s memorial bust; it includes an epistle signed by two men who had a thoroughly documented relationship with Shakespeare, both of whom received a bequest from Shakespeare in his will, and one of whom was a trustee in a property transaction with Shakespeare who later helped transfer the property to Shakespeare’s daughter.

EDIT: To be clear: here are the exact, not subjective, non-idiosyncratic words of the epistle by Heminge and Condell:

We have but collected them, and done an office to the dead, to procure his Orphanes, Guardians; without ambition either of selfe-profit, or fame: onely to keepe the memory of so worthy a Friend, & Fellow alive, as was our SHAKESPEARE, by humble offer of his playes, to your most noble patronage.

Now go ahead and give this your usual specious, subjective, idiosyncratic reading of why that’s not dispositive, that relies on an a priori assumption that Oxford wrote the works, and then torture the text to make it fit.

Paul Crowley (replying to Benjamin Hackman)

Now you can cast all the aspersions you want on Stratford...

I don't cast any aspersions on the Stratford man. I reserve them for those who are so hopelessly ignorant of basic history.

...the norm then was for the town fathers to send their sons to grammar school.

One
teacher, six age-groups (for 7-13 year-olds) means that only SOME
(maybe a fifth) of local boys attended the school. Literate parents
(e.g. the Quineys) would send their boys. But most of the illiterate
parents probably didn't bother, at least not with the eldest boy, who
was meant to continue the family business. Tanners did not need
literacy, and Latin was of absolutely no use to them.

John Shakespeare, like so many of his class, wanted to move up in
society, and he wanted his son to move up. And if John Shakespeare
couldn't write, he most certainly would have wanted his son to, as has
always been the case, and perhaps even more so during this time in
England.

You have no understanding whatever of
traditional societies, such as that of rural England. Stratford
remained predominantly illiterate until after the Education Acts of 1870
(three hundred years later). People ‘knew their place’ and literacy
was only for those who absolutely needed it, or already had it in their
families.

So we have a good case that Will went to grammar school...

You have no case at all. Look at those ‘signatures’.

...as his splendid parody of the tribulations of a grammar school lad
in MW (IV,i) clearly shows. No nobleman who had not done 8 hrs a day, 6
days a week...

Entirely fanciful Stratfordian
nonsense. How come no school system anywhere in the world, at any time,
has ever tried to emulate what you so stupidly imagine were late-Tudor
schools? (The answer, which you would never get, is that such a system
would not work. It could not work. Exhausted students do not learn.
Exhausted teachers cannot cope.)

...of rote Latin would appreciate the episode

Lessons
in rote Latin were not a state secret. Oxford probably never needed to
endure them, but he would have seen them in operation in the schools he
managed.

As for illiterate daughters, we don't know about Judith, but we do have Susanna's firm signature...

We
DO know about Judith. She made her mark on legal documents signed in
full by her sisters-in-law. Susanna had a ‘signature’ which does not
join letters, is not on a line, and in which each of the three ‘A’s, the
two ‘N’s and two‘'L’s are drawn differently. She was clearly no
writer.

...she married the town's doctor....

She
married one of her father’s minders — a highly qualified, and learned
doctor, who left a rapidly-expanding prosperous London to spend his life
in a remote provincial dump. No doubt, he was well-paid for it. But
we can sympathise with the unhappiness of his later years.

Finally, you do go on about ”near-nobles”...

A term I never use. What could it mean? It's certainly not ‘a class’.

...a class that you extend to include true commoner...

What the heck are ‘true commoners’?

...who did produce some excellent work (but you are really grasping to claim Chaucer).

So far, you've only shown that you hate Stratford with all your heart and all your soul.

From
where do you get this nonsense? (Projection?) The Stratford man did
very well for himself and his family. His grand-daughter became “Lady
Barnard” and was host to Queen Henrietta and her courtiers. He seems to
have ‘played his cards’ with skill. If I’d been in his shoes, I’d have
done exactly the same — if I could have managed it.

Benjamin Hackman (replying to Paul Crowley)

Paul, so you still have no evidence for Oxford? Instead, you continue to
hate on Stratford, as shown once again by your claim that
Stratford-upon-Avon was “remote provincial dump.” Your language betrays
you.

So I'll ask again. Do you have any actual documentary evidence for Oxford?

Let's not go down any more rabbit holes.

No more digressions.

No more dodging.

Again, just some documentary evidence for Oxford.

Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford (1550-1604)

“SHAKE-SPEARE” AS ALLONYMRichard M. Waugaman, M.D.

[Someone using the name of another non-fictional person as a pseudonym is] called an “allonym.”

Paul Crowley (replying to Richard M. Waugaman, M.D.)

I’d bet it was devised as a pure pseudonym (much like ‘Mark Twain’) and was turned into an allonym only later, when the illiterate was located and the deal with him sorted out.

headlight (replying to Paul Crowley)

What a great theory. It's like how Samuel Clemens made up the name “Mark Twain,” and then found somebody with the actual name of Mark Twain (but who spelled his name Marke Towain in his signatures); and who was illiterate, but somehow employed in a job where literacy was required. Clemens hired him as a front because he though having an illiterate person who spelled his name kind of like his pen-name would prevent people from finding out his true identity.

Wait — sorry — that scenario didn’t happen because Clemens wasn’t a lunatic. In fact, we have evidence that he used a pseudonym, which you don’t have for Oxford.

Paul Crowley (replying to headlight)

It’s like how Samuel Clemens made up the name “Mark Twain,” and then found somebody with the actual name of Mark Twain (but who spelled his name Marke Towain in his signatures); and who was illiterate….Your analogy is reasonable as a start — but you have to extend it to Samuel Clemens being an intimate and trusted friend of the hereditary female monarch of his country, where much of his writing, if its context was known to the public, would leave her open to scandalous accusations.

…but somehow employed in a job where literacy was required.

The Stratford man was not an actor. He was illiterate — like his parents, his wife and his children.

…Clemens hired him as a front….

No. The government (the monarch’s agents) fixed it up and paid for it.

….because he though having an illiterate person who spelled his name kind of like his pen-name would prevent people from finding out his true identity.

The Stratford man had minders, who made sure no tourist or stranger met him. Remember that actors were not allowed in the town. When the King’s Men once approached, they were paid to go away. The illiteracy was desirable, because they did not want the identification to stand for all time. (Many of De Vere’s works were published over the names of literate gentlemen; with whom they are effectively stuck.) The notion that the Stratman could write anything was so absurd that they were sure it would be obvious to anyone who was able to look.

[For a rebuttal to the assertion that William Shakespeare was not an actor, review “headlight’s” statement: “These ‘deserving men’ were all players in the Lord Chamberlain’s men, later the King’s Men. They're recorded in court documents as players during their lifetimes in the rolls recording servants of James receiving quantities of red cloth prior to his formal coronation in 1604; Burbage later describes the company recovering the lease to the Blackfriars, ‘& placed men players, which were Heminges, Condell, Shakespeare etc.’ This shows that Shakespeare was still active as a player in 1608, when the King’s Men regained the Blackfriars.”]

OXFORD AS A WRITERNat Whilk

Has Dr. Waugaman actually read the Earl of Oxford? C. S. Lewis summed him up fairly: “Edward de Vere, Earl of Oxford, shows, here and there, a faint talent, but is for the most part undistinguished and verbose.” The earl could not have written Shakespeare, not remotely. He might, with tuition, have passed Shakespeare, but only just, unless he bought his papers from bright boys like Lyly and Munday.

The Earl’s formal education ended at thirteen. Under tutelage, he’d studied Latin only two hours a day, about as much time as he’d devoted to penmanship and dancing, and about a quarter of the time that a grammar-school boy like Shakespeare would have spent on Latin grammar and rhetoric. The only Latin in de Vere’s letters is a handful of stock phrases, some of which he parrots correctly. Others are badly mangled. I cannot believe that an alleged translator of Ovid could produce such monstrosities as “summum totale,” which is about on the order of “Le tante des mon plume.”

Unlike the boy from the Stratford grammar school, Oxford was a clumsy versifier. He displays no verve, no vivacity, no passion for language or for story-telling. His drab and joyless poetry and whining letters show no feeling for the shape of sentences, the sound of words.

Here is part of a letter by Oxford, written in his own hand in 1569. It’s wretchedly badly expressed.

Althoth [=although] my hap hathe bin so hard that yt hathe visited me of lat [=late] wythe syknes yet thanks be to god throw [=through] the lokinge to which I haue had by yowr care had ouer me, I find my helthe restored and myself doble behowldinge vnto yow bothe for that and many good turnes whiche I haue receiued before of yowre part. For the which althothe I haue fownd yow to not account of late of me as in time tofore yet not wythstandinge that strangnes yow shall se at last in me that I will aknowlege [them] and not be vngratfull vnto yow for them and not to deserue so ill a thowght in yow that they were ill bestowed in me.

Here’s another from 1599 (to the Queen, no less):

...thus in hast [=haste] I crave yowre Magestyes pardone, for I thowght yt better for me to make a fault in my writinge, then yat yowre Magestye showld suffer any losse by so great abus [=abuse] and to informe yowre Magestye how necescassarye [=necessary] yt yt ys yf yowr plesure be not to lease [=lose] a commodite, made so redie to yowre handes, to countermade [=countermand] thys last order, and to giue commandment that the order of yowre premptione be nott altred, least the Marchantes havinge prepared this monye and beinge provyded to furnishe yowre seruice, disposinge yt otherwise and vpon sum other imploymentes, the leke [=like] facilite and oportunite to effect yt be never hadd agayne.

Not much improvement over 30 years. Do you really imagine that this grammatically-challenged courtier could have written Hamlet’s prose?

Note that “leke” for “like.” Both Oxford and Shakespeare were idiosyncratic spellers, but with widely divergent habits. Lack of genius aside, Oxford spelled as he must have spoken, in a strong Essex accent absolutely incompatible with Shakespeare’s language: cats, he would have said, catch meece. They chase them down the hail. “Grief” and “strife,” for Oxford, would have rhymed perfectly; so would “fall” and “frail.” Only de Vere, throughout his life, used vulgarisms like “oft” for “ought.”

If Oxford were to write as “Shakespeare”— leaving aside all other temporal, spatial, intellectual, and social paradoxes — he would need to hold two incompatible systems of orthography in mind, two dissimilar accents, with their different assonances, rhymes, and quibbles. He would have to keep them utterly distinct: never let Shakespeare’s hand or mind appear in Oxford’s letters; nor let the Essex marshes seep into the plays or poetry. He would have to speak two languages.

And if the man could write like Shakespeare, why did he go on, for decade after decade, writing like Oxford?

Richard M. Waugaman, M.D.

Interesting how mainstream views of Oxford as a writer suddenly plummeted after 1920. Why would that be? For example, in his famous History of England (c. 1848), Thomas Macaulay wrote, ”The seventeenth Earl [of Oxford] had shone at the court of Elizabeth, and had won for himself an honourable place among the early masters of English poetry.”

Nat Whilk (replying to Richard M. Waugaman, M.D.)

You’re grasping at straws.

Macaulay’s “shone at the court of Elizabeth” refers to Oxford’s social status and his presentation: his dress and his dancing, his tilting, his retinue, his gloves. And “had won for himself an honourable place among the early masters of English poetry” is the faintest of praise. It means that his work was passable. All that takes is a C- average. Note too, that “early masters.” De Vere is placed among the poets of the Drab Age, not with the great Elizabethans and Jacobeans, much less with the immortals. Oxford was a star of the sixth magnitude; Shakespeare was a supernova.

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Early critics did not have access to Oxford’s letters. We do, thanks to Alan Nelson. Comparing the letters (which are in the earl’s own hand, and for the most part quite badly expressed) with the poetry (which has been copied out, and while sometimes ludicrous, can rise to uninspired competence), I would surmise that Oxford had help with the poetry, and very likely with the lost interludes. No shame in that in Elizabethan culture: secretaries (like tailors, falconers, musicians, and cooks) were retained to make their lordly masters look dazzling. Francis Bacon wrote a politically tricky masque for Essex to perform before Elizabeth. The earl was credited with its composition, though we have in the manuscript in Bacon’s hand. Oxford kept Lyly and Munday on his staff, and they are highly likely to written those comedies for which he took the praise. He was the Lina Lamont of the Elizabethan age, miming in front of the curtain.